


Sherlollipops - Daddy's Girl

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [208]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, PWP, Public Sex, Sherlolly - Freeform, daddy!dom, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8212700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Molly's looking for fun, Sherlock's looking for a suspect. What happens when they run into each other at the same sex club?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my smutember offering. Thank you to everyone who read it when it was posted anonymously, and I hope new readers enjoy this little dip into kinkiness!

Molly surveyed her surroundings eagerly. So this was the sex club her friend Meena had whispered to her about. So far, it seemed to live up to her friend’s rapturous descriptions, which meant it was exactly what Molly needed right now: a club where inhibitions were left along with coats and names at the front door.

She’d thought she’d be nervous, but all she felt was a sense of anticipation as she checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sinfully short baby-doll dress - white with pink ribbons and lacey details, with tiny capped sleeves - check. Matching white thigh-high stockings, also with pink ribbons and lacey details - check. Slightly darker pink kitten-heeled shoes - check check.

Complete lack of knickers beneath the ensemble - oh HELL yes. Triple check on that one. She grinned as she reached up to make sure that the pink ribbons holding her hair up in a pair of carefully curled pigtails were secure. She’d debated on how heavy to make herself up, but considering her overall look was that of ‘Daddy’s Girl’ she opted for just a touch of mascara and eyeliner, and (of course) soft pink lipstick.

So much for ‘mousey Molly’ she thought with a giggle. Then, giving a determined nod she said aloud, “Time for baby girl to find her daddy.”

She exited the bathroom and made her way onto the dance floor, joining the crowd of people writing and twisting together to the pulsing beat of the music. The few drinks she’d downed were just enough to take care of any lingering nerves, and she gave herself over to the highly sexualized atmosphere with abandon.

Mmm, sex. God, it had been ages since she’d gotten laid, not since she’d broken up with Tom. And that relationship could be summed up the word ‘comfortable’ rather than ‘exciting’. The poor dear would have been utterly scandalized if she’d ever confessed her most secret fantasy to him, the one she intended to play out tonight: not just the whole ‘Daddy’s Girl’ bit, but the idea of having sex in public, in front of a bunch of strangers.

Soon, she thought as she swayed to the beat, she would be part of a couple taking advantage of one of the strategically placed settees and oversized arm chairs scattered about the room. God, she was wet just thinking about it!

Poor Tom would have fled in horror at the very thought. Yeah, the sex with him had been good enough, but ultimately ‘good enough’ had failed to keep her interest. She giggled a bit to herself as she danced with a group of other women, wondering what her friends or co-workers would think if they saw her like this.

Especially a certain curly-haired, collar-popping, tight-shirt-wearing consulting detective.

She quashed any thoughts of Sherlock as she allowed a smiling man with dark eyes and blond hair to pull her into a more intimate dance. No matter how much she wanted something more than friendship with him, she’d long since resigned herself to the fact that that ship would never sail.

She was pulled out of her rather morose thoughts by the feel of someone’s hands on her shoulders, tugging her away from her dance partner. She turned to see who it was, gaping at shock at the sight of the very man she’d been trying so hard not to think about standing deep within her personal space.

What the _hell_ was Sherlock doing here?!?

**oOo**

The club was boring, the patrons were boring, and - oh look, a message on his mobile. Apparently the man he’d been following had just been arrested by Gavin Lestrade, out in the alley. Embarrassing sort of thing to happen in the middle of taking a piss, but it was the idiot’s own fault. So. Time to wrap things up, disentangle himself from the two women he’d allowed to drape themselves over him while he pretended to be interested in what they had to offer, and then…

His mind blanked out for a long moment as he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure dancing in the crowd of pleasure-seekers not ten feet away from his seat at the bar. Impossible, she’d never come to a place like this...would she? Shaking himself free of his two clingy companions without a word, he jumped to his feet and waded with single-minded determination into the sea of writhing bodies.

He had to know if he was right, or just seeing what he wanted to see.

He ignored the attempts by dancers of both sexes to catch his attention, brushing them off irritably as he weaved his way through their sweaty, scantily clad bodies until he reached the woman he’d spotted. Even without seeing her face, he knew he was right: it was Molly, it could _only_ be Molly,  not only dressed as provocatively as any other woman in the place but more specifically dressed like something out of his filthiest fantasies.

Fantasies in which she and only she had ever starred.

She was dancing with a man - stockbroker, married (not that it mattered in this particular club), not nearly as well endowed as he tried to pretend he was if the sock stuffed down his too-tight trousers was anything to go by - letting him put his sweaty hands all over her, rubbing up against him and whispering something in his ear that caused him to hold her even tighter.

Oh no, that wouldn’t do, not at ALL. Some primitive, possessive part of Sherlock – a part he’d long denied ever having and was shocked to discover wasn’t nearly as locked-down as he’d thought it was – came roaring up to cloud his vision and crowd his brain with thoughts of “NO” and “MINE”. He reached out with both hands, tugging Molly by the shoulders until she turned round to face him. She stared at him through wide eyes, her pink-tinted mouth open in an ‘O’ of surprise. “Sh-Sherlock?” she squeaked out, looking around rather wildly, as if needing some sort of confirmation that he was actually standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

The man she’d been dancing with shrugged and turned his back on the two of them, insinuating himself into a trio of leggy blondes - dressed in very poor approximations of pirate costumes - who seemed more than happy to welcome him into their midst. As soon as he’d let go of Molly Sherlock thought nothing more of him - especially since any man who would give her up that easily was clearly unworthy of her.

“Case,” he said in response to her question, then let his hands slide down her shoulders and bare arms until he was cupping her elbows. “Finished with it. Dance with me.”

He waited with ill-concealed impatience for her response. Would she pull away angrily or let him continue to dictate their interactions tonight? Although she was no longer willing to let him bulldoze over her in real life (all to the good as far as he was concerned), her choice of outfit indicated a willingness - scratch that, an _eagerness_ \- to be sexually dominated.

And if that was what she wanted, then he was just the man for the job.

A wolfish smile graced his lips as she swayed closer to him, linking her hands behind his neck and allowing him to pull her into a slow grind of a dance. The music cooperated, turning from a frenetic dance tune to something slow and sultry with a smoky beat that perfectly suited his mood.

“In case you’re wondering, I am _very_ interested in doing more than just dancing with you tonight, Molly,” Sherlock said as he felt her finally relaxing into his hold. “Much more,” he added, brushing his lips against her ear.

She shivered and tightened her hold on his neck. “That’s, um, good, that’s really good, Sher...uh…”

“It’s OK to say my name, told you the case was finished,” he reassured her, instantly divining the reason for her hesitation. “Trust me, the only reason I’m still here is because of you and this rather naughty little outfit you’ve put together.” He fingered the neckline of her dress approvingly. “However, I also wouldn’t mind hearing you call me ‘Daddy’,” he added, curling his lips in a dark smile.

Her eyes went very wide and he felt a quick shudder go over her body. Good, he was affecting her just as strongly as she’d already affected him. Nice to be on the same page for a change.

“It doesn’t have to be anything but sex,” Molly blurted out suddenly. He refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely; it was his own fault that she felt the need to reassure him, after all. Who could blame her, after he’d spent years keeping her at arm’s length?

She’d lifted her head from where it rested against his shoulder in order to look up at him, brow furrowed anxiously as she studied him for clues. “Whatever happens here can stay here, I promise.”

“And what if I don’t want it to?” he asked, keeping his voice to a low rumble against her ear as he slid his hands down to fondle her deliciously plump - and wonderfully bare - arse. “Would you be willing for it to be more than just sex, Molly? Because I know I would. However,” he added as he began backing her toward the edge of the dance floor, “perhaps we can save that discussion for later. Right now I have a rather pressing need to feel you bouncing on my cock.”

She flushed a becoming shade of pink, biting her lip as she allowed him to steer her toward an unoccupied nook. He sat down on the circular arm chair, opening his arms and nodding approvingly when she climbed onto his lap. He just held her for a long pair of moments, savoring the feel of her in his arms, her bum nestled against his growing erection, her head resting on his shoulder.

A fantasy come true in more ways than one. However, the whole “I’m in love with you, move in with me” conversation could wait till he got her back to Baker Street at the end of the night. Although he was perfectly willing to fulfill her obvious exhibitionist streak by fucking her in this very chair with an audience of strangers ogling them, he was impatient to have her all to herself in his own bedroom. God, he really, really, _really_ wanted to fuck her. All those years of abstinence tossed aside like yesterday’s rubbish - and he couldn’t be happier.

Well, perhaps he could be a _little_ happier… “Molly, don’t you have a kiss for Daddy?

Her eyes lit up, and she bit her lip in a manner he quickly discovered was capable of driving him mad with want. It took all his control to remain passive as she clambered up on her knees, straddling his thighs, her soft breasts brushing against his chest. She leaned forward, her hands resting on his shoulders, and pressed her lips against his. Unsurprisingly she tasted of cherry, her favorite fruit; equally unsurprisingly, she was an excellent kisser. She started off slow and gentle, but eagerly deepened the kiss when he flicked his tongue between her lips.

Their tongues danced as he pressed her down against his still-clothed erection. He cupped her arse cheeks, kneading the soft flesh as she ground her bare pussy against him. “Daddy’s good girl,” he purred when the kiss ended, darting his head down to lick and suck at her neck. She moaned and tilted her head back, giving him more access, and he took ruthless advantage.

Her moans grew louder, her movements more frenzied as he moved his mouth down to her breasts, sucking them through the flimsy fabric of her costume. When that threatened to dry out his mouth too much, he released his hold on her bum and reached up impatiently to tug the tiny sleeves down. She pulled her arms free, baring her breasts to his appreciative sight - and that of anyone else who happened to be watching.

Let them watch. He dismissed them from his mind, concentrating solely on Molly and how best to make her come, to draw his name from her lips along with cries of ecstasy. “Daddy has a present for you, can you feel it, little girl?” he asked with a suggestive upward thrust of his hips.

“Oooh, it feels lovely, Daddy,” she said in a breathy voice. “But it’s all covered up, can I unwrap it and see?”

She fluttered her lashes, the dark mascara making them seem longer than usual, and he nodded. Regrettably she clambered off his lap in order to reach for his flies, but the sight of her kneeling between his legs forced him to clear his suddenly dry throat.

“She’s awfully sweet, do you two share?”

Sherlock barely even glanced at the woman asking the question. “No. But do feel free to watch.”

Molly looked up at her with a pout. “No sharing,” she said firmly. “ _My_ Daddy.” Then her small, clever hands were opening up his trousers and freeing his straining cock for all and sundry to see.

Her coo of approval was gratifying; he’d never been one to compare genitals with other men but assumed by the reactions of his few past lovers that he was more than adequately endowed. “Oh, it’s lovely, Daddy, thank you!” Molly said, looking up at him adoringly. “May I taste it? Please? I promise it won’t spoil my supper.”

Any blood that might have remained in other parts of his body - his brain, for example - immediately sped southward. He managed a curt nod, then looked down and groaned in pleasure as she began sucking enthusiastically at the head of his cock.

She was just as good at that as she was at kissing; so good, in fact, that if she kept up with what she was doing, this evening would end embarrassingly quickly. He wound one pigtail around his hand, tugging lightly in order to pull her greedy mouth off him. Her pout was entirely real this time, but when he indicated that he wanted her back on his lap, she appeared more than happy to climb up again. “Time to put your present away, darling girl,” he said huskily, reaching between her legs and stroking two fingers along her dripping wet folds. “And Daddy knows just where it needs to go.”

**oOo**

Molly thought she might literally faint with excitement as Sherlock pulled his fingers away from her pussy and sucked them into his mouth. She leaned forward to kiss him, to taste herself on his lips and tongue, moaning softly as she felt him tugging her hips down to help settle her atop his lovely, lovely cock. She wasn’t normally one to make comparisons, but judging by the size of him, she doubted Sherlock would have the same trouble reaching her g-spot that Tom had.

She felt the tip of that lovely cock brushing against her opening and tilted her head back with a gasp of pleasure. Sherlock took immediate advantage by sucking hard at her throat, not even pretending that he wasn’t going to pepper her with love bites. She’d have to be diligent with the cover-up when she returned to work on Monday.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. He shifted his hips and his cock slipped deeper inside her. He’d bunched up the hem of her dress so that she was now bare below the waist, and seemed as uncaring as she currently was of the small audience they’d attracted. She was extremely turned on by the feel of many stranger’s eyes upon the two of them, her breath coming in panting gasps as she settled herself more firmly on Sherlock’s cock. It took a few tries, raising and lowering herself by increments, until finally he was fully seated inside her.

His hands nearly spanned her waist, his fingers brushing down against her thatch of pubic hair, the tip of one teasing her clit as she squirmed in his hold. “Daddy,” she whimpered as he pulled his mouth away from her throat. “Daddy I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked, tilting his head back and giving her a lazy smile.

“You,” she gasped out, leaning forward for a desperate kiss.

As if that single word had been the signal he’d been waiting for, Sherlock burst into a frenzy of motion, his hold tightening on her waist as he raised her up and down in time with the upstrokes of his hips. A keening wail built in the back of her throat with every thrust; she could feel him hitting her sweet spot over and over again. Sex with Sherlock was turning out to be even better than she’d imagined - and she’d imagined quite a bit over the years.

“Oh Daddy, ohhhhh,” she cried as she felt her climax building. Sherlock’s hands moved down to squeeze her bum and he darted his head forward in order to latch onto one breast, biting down on the nipple and _ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!_ that was all she needed, that one little push to bring her hurtling over the edge.

Shuddering through the aftershocks, she leaned her sweaty forehead against his shoulder, her arms draped loosely over his shoulders. He’d stopped moving as she came, and waited until she raised her head to meet his eyes and smile before arching his hips up. Shaky as she was in the aftermath of what had been a truly amazing orgasm, she managed to ride his shaft with the help of his hands on her waist. She nibbled at his earlobe as they moved together, loving the sound of his gasps and groans as he chased his own completion.

She whispered encouragement in his ear as his movements sped up, sighing and praising him for being such a good daddy, telling him how much she liked her present and how she couldn’t wait to taste him again. “Christ, Molly, you’re going to fucking kill me,” he gasped out; seconds later, she felt his hot cum spurting into her and clenched her internal muscles to help milk him of every last drop.

A smattering of applause brought her out of her post-orgasmic daze; she looked up to see that they’d attracted quite a crowd of people and flushed at all the attention. “Time for Daddy to bring his little princess home, I think,” Sherlock murmured in her ear, and she nodded, unable to meet his eyes as the reality of what they’d just done settled in.

However, as she scrambled off his lap, he caught her hand and wouldn’t let go until she unwillingly met his gaze. “No regrets,” he said softly, while their audience dispersed into their own carnal activities. “I loved every minute of this, Molly, and I know you did, too. In fact,” he added with a smile that melted her insides, “I can’t wait to get you back to Baker Street so we can explore this new relationship of ours in a multitude of ways.” Darting his head forward, he flicked his tongue between two of her fingers, leaving no doubt as to which particular activity he was most looking forward to.

She kissed him, still not quite able to speak, but wanting to let him know how very, very willing she was to continue what they’d started tonight. She doubted they’d ever come back to this particular club, now that her curiosity - among other things - had been satisfied, but who knew?

Perhaps they could arrange to ‘accidentally’ have sex in front of Greg Lestrade or the Watsons, she mused as they arranged their clothes and headed toward the coat room.

Somehow she doubted Sherlock would object. Smiling up at him as he draped an arm across her shoulder, Molly sighed with contentment.

Daddy’s little girl was finally going home.

 


End file.
